All You Need Is Love
by eccacia
Summary: A collection of fluffy Snowbarry one-shots, each inspired by a Beatles song. #4: You Really Got a Hold on Me - One hot summer day, Barry manages to convince Caitlin to be his personal air-conditioner. Ah, the things she did for love…
1. I'm Happy Just to Dance with You

**Summary:** Barry and Caitlin attend a ball held in Caitlin's honor, and they go for a few whirls on the dance floor.

 **Rating:** T for innuendo

 **Words:** ~2,200

 **Notes (12 April 2018):** I've been feeling down lately for a number of reasons, and I wanted to cheer myself up by writing a bit of fluff. Steamy fluff, as it turned out. I jotted this down in one go and hardly edited, so I hope you'll forgive any mistakes.

In this fic, Barry and Iris were never together, and Caitlin and KF are assumed to be the same person.

I've been listening to a lot of The Beatles again recently. This one was inspired by the song "I'm Happy Just to Dance with You". Give it a listen :)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own The Flash or any of the Beatles songs.

* * *

 **I'm Happy Just to Dance with You**

* * *

Dr. Caitlin Snow was the kind of woman that made men insecure and women uneasy. Despite the way she hardly ever drew attention to herself, people could not help but pay attention to her and form opinions about her.

A number of men in Barry's table now, for example, would grudgingly concede that she was intelligent—perhaps even more than they were—but right afterwards, they would criticize her cold objectivity and the level-headedness with which she faced any problem. For some reason, this was a hindrance instead of an asset. "It's eerie as hell," his tablemate and acquaintance, Smithson, a professor of immunology from Central City University, grumbled under his breath. He looked pale and sickly, a man with a career receding as quickly as his hairline. "It's unnatural."

Barry refrained from commenting that that same cold objectivity and level-headedness had saved his life many times over, but he couldn't resist quipping that had she been a man, those same qualities would have been natural.

The women were no better. To them, Dr. Caitlin Snow was intelligent, but unfeeling. She lacked warmth, they said. "Did you hear that acceptance speech she made tonight?" Smithson's wife said. She'd been talking to him all night, forcing her opinions down his throat. "Hardly any emotion. She may have cracked the meta-human genetic code, but she can't manage to crack a smile for a ball held in her honor."

Barry snorted. Were these people really the top academics in the city? How could they form conclusions so quickly based on a single sample of Caitlin's behavior? Because, in his experience, Caitlin was far from unfeeling. He'd spent almost four years cataloguing every single micro-emotion that flitted across her face, every single gesture that she made, every twist of her mouth and twinkle in her eye, and he still didn't know enough about her. He knew that she felt so much that, if she allowed her feelings to overtake her, she wouldn't be in control of herself. So she tamped her feelings down while they were mere waves lapping on the shore, before they gathered force in a swelling tsunami.

Right now, Caitlin was scared. She might be objective and level-headed when it came to taking a meta down, or even being kidnapped, but stage fright utterly defeated her. She didn't look like it, but she was terrified. She kept fidgeting with the skirt of her midnight-blue gown, either bunching her hand in it or smoothening down the wrinkles, and she kept clearing her throat throughout her speech. They were small movements that went unnoticed by the untrained eye, but he was an expert in all things Caitlin, and so he knew that she was doing her best to hold her terror at bay.

"I don't know why they thought to give her an award," someone else on the table commented idly. Barry remembered that he taught a special course on the philosophy of science, a topic so obscure that he never had more than ten students a semester. "She was part of the original explosion that created metas in the first place, so she just basically cleaned up the mess."

Smithson scoffed. "If _I_ were given an award for every mistake I corrected, I'd be inclined to make more of them."

"Exactly my point."

Barry couldn't take any more of this. "Is it just me," he said, tone deceptively mild, "or does it sound like you're jealous?"

A chorus of defensive remarks. Barry continued, with false cheer, "Well, I for one am happy that someone took initiative to do what she's doing. Crime rates have decreased by twelve percent since Dr. Snow opened her metahuman rehabilitation facility, a statistic that, by the way, not even The Flash can rival, and the metas she's rehabilitated have been working in different sectors of the city—creating renewable energy and solving dangerous factory conditions, to name a few. I don't think any of us can be as productive when we're cleaning up our employer's messes."

Smithson's wife scoffed. "Not you too, Allen. You should know better than to defend her."

It was a thorny issue in the scientific community, the work that Caitlin was doing, but Barry didn't expect that some people would be so small-minded. Then again, he was sitting with the professors who, like himself, taught electives in the university on a part-time basis—Forensic Science, in his case—so their opinions were hardly representative of the majority. "It's exactly because I know her well that I'm defending her," he said. "Oh, look, they've opened the dance floor. I think I'll ask her to dance. Excuse me."

 **. . .**

Barry quickly passed Iris's table—the media table—and briefly noted Cisco's absence at the CCPD table, where he was supposed to be seated. The event organizer obviously hadn't consulted anyone for the seating arrangement. In any case, Cisco might not have been good company tonight—he had to leave early to make it in time for In-Laws Day with Cynthia.

He finally approached Caitlin's table at the very front of the room. She was still fidgeting with her dress, especially since most of her tablemates were already on the dance floor. She'd danced one round with the mayor, which was understandable since she was the guest of honor, but right afterwards she scrambled back to her seat, looking as if she didn't want to dance again.

He tapped her shoulder and said genially, "May I have this dance?"

Caitlin whipped around to look at him, and her gaze turned accusatory. In his mental catalogue of Caitlin's expressions, this would fall under mock-anger. Had she been really angry with him, she wouldn't even look at him.

He gave her his most charming smile, but she continued to glare at him.

"This is all your fault."

"What's my fault?"

"You made dancing look too easy when you were teaching me," she said. "And I'm used to your toes healing fast. Barry, I stepped on the mayor's feet _three times_. With my stilettoes. And imagining people naked while making my speech didn't help _at all_ —"

"Admittedly I had an ulterior motive for telling you to imagine the audience naked," he said, grinning and taking her hand in his.

She huffed and got to her feet reluctantly. "What, you thought me imagining you naked was a good way for me to concentrate on my speech?"

"I thought it'd be a good incentive."

"It was a good _distraction_. You're never teaching me to do anything ever again. From now on, I'm going to rely on YouTube."

"But YouTube isn't as fun," Barry said, sliding his hands to her waist. She lightly placed hers on his broad shoulders, and instinctively, he leaned down and touched his lips to the shell of her ear. "It doesn't have any… _practical_ demonstrations."

There was a tiny hitch in her breath that made him smug. "Don't tell me, Professor Allen, that you plan on seducing me right here, in the middle of the dance floor."

"I think I have the right to seduce my fiancée anytime," he replied with a cheeky smile. "And don't call me that. You know what it does to me."

"What, Professor Allen?" she said. Her smile turned coy, but when she looked up at him, her dark eyes were twinkling. It was an expression she reserved for him alone. In fact, she had a host of expressions that she reserved for him alone. The rest of the world could think her cold and unfeeling if it meant he could have that look all to himself. "What else will I call the man who insists on giving me _practical demonstrations_?"

His hand tightened on her waist, and suddenly his pants seemed too tight. It didn't help that Caitlin looked absolutely stunning tonight, wearing a midnight-blue gown that revealed a hint of cleavage and clung to her curves like second skin. There was also a maddening slit on the side that stopped mid-thigh, and every time she stepped forward with her right leg, he glimpsed a length of creamy skin under the dark gown. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into a dark corner and kiss her senseless, but tonight was _her_ night, and he didn't want to whisk her away from her own party prematurely.

So, instead, he shifted tactics.

"You did great tonight, though," he said softly. "I don't think anyone noticed you were nervous."

She sighed. "You think so?" she murmured, her expression vulnerable. She leaned closer to him and rested her head on his chest. "It would've been better if you were beside me."

"I know," he said. "Believe me, I'd rather be with you than my jerk colleagues."

She laughed. "You could've avoided that if you were my plus-one."

"Yeah, Cait, but…"

"I know, I know," she said, with a wave of her hand. "It's dangerous for us to be seen together too often, because you're not very good at keeping your identity a secret—"

" _Hey_ —"

"—so if someone found out who The Flash was and my connection to him, I could be held hostage or something. Even if, might I add, I'm completely capable of taking care of myself now."

She was referring to her powers as Killer Frost, but they both knew it would take a while before she got them under control, and Barry wasn't taking any chances until she did. He sighed into her hair. "You know my condition."

"I do. I wish my powers didn't take so long to master."

"You're making a lot of progress, you know. You can concentrate the frost now in any area you focus on. You're really starting to have control over it."

"Yeah, well," she muttered, her eyes flashing white briefly, "I'd want to concentrate the frost on the eyes of Smithson's wife. She kept looking at you like she wanted to undress you."

The longer he knew Caitlin, the more he was surprised by her, and nothing surprised him as much as the fact that she had a mild possessive streak. She looked so cross and adorable that he teased, "Are you jealous, Caitlin?"

"A little," she said, running her hands slowly down his chest, leaving him shivering in the wake of her touch. "A lot of women were looking at you tonight, you know."

"Well, I'm a pretty decent-looking professor-slash-forensic scientist with a secret identity as a superhero and an abundance of charm. Of course women would look at me."

Caitlin gave him a dry look. Her hands were still moving up and down his chest in a feather-light touch. "I contest the abundance of charm."

"If not for charm, how else would I have gotten the guest of honor _and_ the most beautiful woman in the room to dance with me?"

"It's the suit," she said idly. "It should be criminal for you to wear a suit."

Barry grinned. Caitlin had a weakness for suits, and since he only wore them on rare occasions, he absolutely relished the look on her face when he did. That expression was one of his favorites. She would never admit it, always playing demure with him, but that look in her eyes was unmistakable.

"It's just as criminal for you to be in this dress," he said. He pressed her closer to him. He wasn't aware how many dances they've had, or how many times she'd stepped on his foot—he only knew that he didn't want to let go of her just yet. He added playfully, "When we get home, Dr. Snow, I'm going to rid you of this offending garment."

"I'm going to have to return the favor," she said, fingering the knot of his tie, which she'd just deftly done hours ago. He could still feel the burn of her cool fingers around his neck. "Although… maybe I should leave your tie on."

Barry struggled to take a breath. "Why, Dr. Snow," he finally managed after a few gulps, while she played with the hairs at the nape of his neck, "I think _you're_ the one seducing me now in the middle of the dance floor."

"Me? Seduce?" she said, her red lips quirking into a smile that sent the heat down. "More like persuade, _Professor_ Allen."

"Use that on me again and you don't have to do much persuading," he said, his voice strangled.

"That's the idea."

"Cait, it's your ball—"

"Yes, and my part in it is done. We all know that the mayor is holding this 'special ball' in order to ingratiate himself to academics and the feminists in time for the next election."

"Still, I don't think—"

"Barry," she said, her voice a silky whisper in his ear. "Put those powers of yours to some use and get us out of here."

There was no mistaking that look on her face, and Barry didn't need to be told twice.

He swept her to the edge of the dance floor, flashed them out of there, and, upon getting home, put his powers to very good use indeed.


	2. I'm Only Sleeping

**Summary:** Nothing beats waking up next to her husband. Or: In which Caitlin becomes a human pillow and Barry isn't coherent in the morning. No lemons, but there's enough cuddling for everybody.

 **Rating:** K

 **Words:** ~1,250

 **Notes (13 April 2018):** This is a really unexpected burst of productivity on my part… If you've been reading me awhile, you'll know that I don't usually churn out fics at this rate. Updates will be sporadic instead of regular, depending on whether or not I'm inspired, and it just so happens I'm extra inspired lately. I'm taking advantage of it while I can. :P

Thank you for all the kind reviews. Here's some domestic fluff for you guys :) Inspiration for this was from the song "I'm Only Sleeping" by The Beatles.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own The Flash or any of The Beatles songs.

* * *

 **I'm Only Sleeping**

* * *

The quiet of dawn. The room blurred with sleep. The first ray of light through gossamer curtains.

Caitlin blinked and sighed. The dream she'd just inhabited took a few moments to dissipate from the shadows of the room. Vestiges of an old nightmare—a kidnapping, a dark cell, blue lightning, a scarred face, her cold anger—flitted across the landscape of her subconscious, but the anxiety of the nightmare eased when she felt the warmth of the sleeping body beside her. Those dreams were just dreams now. She was not that woman anymore, and that was not her life anymore.

Her life nowadays was this: a quiet morning with Barry sleeping, breathing, beside her. There were countless other moments that made up her life, but this was a defining moment. This moment reminded her that they were safe, together, _happy_.

Caitlin turned to her side so she could face her husband's sleeping face. For the longest time, the only version of Barry she knew was him asleep, and it took her awhile to get used to how animated he was when he was awake. She loved both versions of him—she loved _all_ versions of him—but this version of him made her nostalgic. She remembered the first time she met him. The time she took care of his prone form, first out of obligation, and then with genuine affection. How she talked to him in his sleep, so he wouldn't get lonely. How she made inferences on what kind of person he was based on his features. Kind, she thought. Quick to smile, and quick to make others smile. Unable to tolerate anyone else's suffering. And, from the way his family worried about him, a person who loved and protected his family fiercely.

She was right, of course, and it didn't take long for her to fall in love with him, but it took him much longer to fall in love with her. People always thought otherwise, since he was more demonstrative of his affection, but it was true. She loved him even when he was with Linda, Patty, Iris; she never expected him to give her the love he gave them, and accepted whatever place in his life she could have. When he finally realized he was in love with her, a year after he broke off his engagement with Iris, he'd almost gone crazy with the knowledge— _How could I have not known, Cait, it's you, it's always been you, you're_ _the one I've wanted all this time_ —and, in response, she'd just smiled and pressed a kiss on his lips to calm him down.

"Are you confessing to me, Barry?" she'd asked.

"Oh, actually, I was supposed to ask you out in a very cool and manly way. In an Oliver-esque way, to be precise," he'd said sheepishly. "Although I guess if you want it to be a confession then it can be a confession."

"I'd take a Barry-esque confession over an Oliver-esque date any day," she'd said, and he laughed and pulled her into a tight hug.

"God," he'd said, melting into her embrace. "I'm such an idiot, Cait."

"Don't worry," she'd said. "I'll have you anyway."

That was a year ago. She'd loved him for five years, four of those in silence. It was no wonder how she still sometimes felt that her life with him was unreal. But seeing him like this, sleeping beside her, and juxtaposing this image with the one in her memory of his prone form all those years ago, made her believe that her life now was real. That _he_ was real, and that he was hers.

His eyelids fluttered open and she quickly drew her hand back, unconscious of the way she'd been tracing his features the entire time.

"Sorry," she whispered, as he blinked blearily at her. "I woke you. Go back to sleep, Barry."

He yawned and burrowed his face in his pillow. "What time is it?"

"Not yet six."

" _Six?"_ he groaned. "I've never even seen six before. No, Cait, don't go."

"It's time for me to get up," she said gently, placing a quick kiss on his neck. "Go back to sleep."

"Oh, no you don't." He flung an arm around her waist just before she could pull away from him, and for someone who was only half-asleep he had a surprising amount of strength. "I won't go back to sleep unless you come back to bed."

"I have things to do."

" _At six in the morning?_ God, you're an early monster."

"Early monster?"

"Yes. Like an early bird but a monster. Normal human beings are burned by pre-noonday sun, so if you get up at six you can't be human. Thus you're an early monster. Did you know that I thought birds were herbivores until I found out worms were essentially meat? My life is a lie, Cait. Birds are carnivores. They're vicious and deceitful. We'll never have a pet bird, ever."

It was ridiculous how much he still talked even when he was half-asleep. His words were slow and thick with that rough morning slur of his, but he still talked almost as much as he did when he was awake—and made as little sense, too.

"So in this case," she said, "I'm the early bird-slash-monster, and you're the worm?"

He burrowed into her neck with a contented sigh. His next words were muffled. "Will you stay in bed if I'm the worm?"

She laughed. "I think the worm isn't giving me much of a choice. He's smothering me."

"I'm not smothering you."

"You are. Let up, Barry."

"Nooo. Your tricks"—he yawned—"won't fool me. You just want to escape."

"And you just want a pillow."

He gave her a sleepy smile. "Guilty as charged."

"Come on, let up. I'll get your pillows from the floor and you can go back to sleep."

"But you're a much better pillow." He slid his legs between hers until they were entirely wrapped around each other. "Rather have you than the other pillows. You're the only pillow for me in the whole wide world."

"…Thanks," she said dryly. She glanced at the wall clock, and then at the head of messy brown hair that she'd begun to smoothen compulsively. It was rare that Barry stirred when she woke, and it _was_ very amusing to see him in this state, so maybe staying a few more minutes in bed wasn't such a bad idea.

"If you look at the clock one more time," he mumbled, "I'll swear you're having an affair with it."

She smiled. "Someone has to," she said. "One of us doesn't have super-speed, after all."

"Excuses," he said. His eyes were beginning to close. "What's wrong with spending five more minutes in bed with your husband? Hmm?"

"Five minutes in bed with you means three more hours in bed with you."

"Again"—another yawn—"what's wrong with that?"

She smiled. "Sleepy?"

"Mmm."

"Want another five minutes in bed?"

"Mmm."

"Okay."

"Mmm." And then, "Okay as in, you'll stay?"

"Five minutes," she allowed. " _My_ five minutes."

He gave her a sleepy smile. "Sure."

"Sleep well, Barry."

He fell back asleep in five minutes, but Caitlin, against her word, stayed in for another twenty. By the time she extricated herself from his grip, the sun was already up, and despite the late start, she already knew that it was going to be a beautiful day.


	3. Do You Want to Know a Secret?

**Summary:** Oliver and Felicity's five-year-old daughter knows a secret of Caitlin's that she's not telling, so Barry tries his best to coax it out of her... especially when he finds out that the secret is about him.

 **Rating:** K+

 **Words:** ~3,800

 **Notes (14 April 2018):** I'll be gone for a trip for the next two weeks, so this is the last one for awhile. I have one more draft that I'll be posting when I get back. Writing the past three fics in one go was fun, though, and it helped keep my mind off things. Your encouraging reviews really cheered me up too, so thank you. :)

Inspired by "Do You Want to Know a Secret?" by The Beatles. I've always loved its playful tone, and I wanted to capture that here. Also usually I avoid writing kids because writing them is really tricky for me, but… welp, I tried. As usual, let me know what you think!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own The Flash or any of The Beatles songs.

* * *

 **Do You Want to Know a Secret?**

* * *

Barry was helping himself to some food from Oliver's fridge after a particularly grueling sparring session with him when he heard the frantic patter of small feet in the hall. He smiled to himself, instantly knowing who it was.

Tatiana Queen, Oliver and Felicity's five-year-old daughter, padded into the dining room, garbed in a glittery blue fairy gown, silver tiara, and blue ballet shoes. From the way she fidgeted with her worn plastic wand, it was obvious that she dying to tell him something.

She cleared her throat. "Hi Uncle Berry."

Barry pretended to look around him. "Tanya?" he said, feigning confusion. "Hm, for a moment there, I thought I heard her…"

Tanya giggled and twirled around three times before raising her wand in the air.

"Oh, there you are!" Barry said, stooping to smile at her from the stool by Oliver's bar. "I thought I heard you. Were you being invisible again?"

"Yeah! I forgot to stop being invisible." She reached to clamber into the stool beside his, and Barry held onto the slice of salami he was eating with his teeth, so he could use his hands to hoist her up the stool. "Being invisible is the best superpower ever!" she continued. "I don't wanna your speed anymore, Uncle Berry. Or Aunty Cait's fost. Or Uncle Cisco's wives."

"Vibes," Barry supplied.

"Wives," she chirped, and Barry just smothered a laugh and let her be. When Cynthia hears this, though, she'd have Cisco's balls. "Being invisible is better than _e-ve-rything_."

Not for the first time, Barry couldn't help but wonder at how loquacious Tanya was for a five-year-old. Her vocabulary was advanced by at least a year, and she talked more than even _he_ did as a kid. Oliver was quick to attribute his daughter's verbal prowess to Felicity's constant chattering around her, and when Felicity protested, Oliver merely said, "Felicity, she knows the word _algorithm._ I'm pretty sure she didn't learn that from those books on John and Jane."

Felicity said that she pronounced it as _algoreet,_ but needless to say, Oliver won that argument.

Still, her language development was a little uneven. For some reason—and he didn't know if it was intentional or not—Tanya couldn't pronounce his name properly, among other things. It was a good thing she didn't have much trouble with her r's or he'd end up being _Uncle Bewy_.

"I don't know, princess," he said, pretending to mull over what she said. "I still think speed's the best."

"Yeah, but being invisible is better," she said. She crawled into his lap, and knowing that she had a weakness for bread and jam, he broke a piece of the bread he was eating and spread some jam on it for her. He moved her carefully so that she wouldn't sit on the contents of his pocket. "Betcha speed don't make people tell secrets."

"Doesn't," he corrected gently. "You're right. Speed can't do that. Did someone tell you secrets today?"

She crossed her arms smugly. "'Course I won't tell you. It's a secret."

"So you _are_ keeping a secret."

"I know a lotta secrets now," she said. "People talk really loud when I'm invisible." She paused to finish off her small piece of bread, and she took out another slice and handed it to him. "More jam."

"What do you say?"

"I like the stoberry jam."

"The magic word first, princess."

"Please, Uncle Berry?" She turned her round blue eyes on him and smiled the smile that brought out the dotted dimples on either side of her mouth.

"Hm, on second thought…" he moved the jam away from her grasping fingers and grinned. "I'll give you the jam, but you have to tell me the secret you found out today."

"No. I'm hungry, Uncle Berry."

"Really? You won't tell me even a little bit?"

"Aunty Cait said I have to be a good secret keeper, 'cause if I tell people's secrets, then everyone will know my superpower. Then no one will say their secrets anymore, 'cause they'll think I'm always there."

"Aunty Cait has a point," he said. He broke her slice of bread into four squares and spread jam on each. "So Aunty Cait asked you to keep her secret, huh?"

"No," she said, nibbling on the first square. "Mommy was talking to her. I was invisible so I heard."

Now Barry was intrigued. "You can tell me. I'm Aunty Cait's friend, after all."

"Can't," she said, looking sly. "'Cause it's about _you_ , Uncle Berry."

"If it's a secret about me, princess, don't you think I have to know?"

She reached for her second square. "Won't tell."

Barry tried to hide his smile. It was obvious that she was dying to tell him, because otherwise she wouldn't be here. But, he had to hand it to her, she was doing a great job of pretending like she really didn't want to tell him.

He decided to change tactics. "Alright," he said. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Her blue eyes widened in a comical fashion. "You don't wanna know anymore?"

Some adults were already immune to reverse psychology, but Tanya, being only five years old, fell for it hook, line, and sinker. He felt a little bad for one-upping a five-year-old, but then _she_ started it, dangling the secret in front of him…

…So he was secretly a five-year-old. So what?

He gave a casual shrug. "No, not really. I'll just wait for Aunty Cait to tell me." He sighed dramatically. "But if she doesn't tell me, and I can't be invisible… Maybe I'll never know."

Tanya fidgeted with her wand and squirmed in his lap, food forgotten, and then finally gave in. "Okay. Maybe I'll tell you a li'l bit of the secret."

"Are you sure, princess?" he said.

She nodded. "'Cause you can't be invisible and all."

"That's right."

She looked around to check if the coast was clear, and then said in a whisper, "Come closer. _Closer._ "

"Alright, alright."

She cupped her hand around his ear, and he held her steady in his lap with an arm. "Aunty Cait likes you."

Barry resisted a smile and feigned surprise. "Really? I like Aunty Cait, too."

"No, no," Tanya said, and she cupped her hand again and whispered, "Aunty Cait likes you like my mommy likes my daddy."

He gasped. "Really? No way."

Tanya nodded. Encouraged by his reaction, she looked around again to check if the coast was clear, and then continued, in a whisper made louder by her barely concealed excitement, "Aunty Cait told Mommy that she wants to _marry_ you."

The amusement abruptly faded, and Barry's throat tightened with emotion. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She loves you lots. You're lucky, Uncle Berry, 'cause Aunty Cait is pretty."

"Oh, so I'm not handsome enough for her?"

She wrinkled her nose. "You're a li'l handsome, but Aunty Cait is really really pretty." She paused suddenly in her seat and turned to him, looking solemn. "You like Aunty Cait too, right? You love her lots too?"

"More than anything."

"Is that more than lots?"

"Ten times more." He would say infinity times more, but he wasn't sure what the extent of Tanya's knowledge of numbers was.

"Okay." She nodded. "If you love her ten times lots, maybe it's okay if you're just a li'l handsome."

"Why, you…" Barry flashed to the nearby sofa and tackled her there, while tickling her sides. She squealed. "No! Stop!"

"Not until you tell me I'm handsome. Say it, Tanya. Say _Uncle Berry is the handsomest man in the universe_ …"

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Tanya, sweetie? What's wrong?"

The two voices in the doorway made Barry pause. Felicity and Caitlin appeared, probably after hearing Tanya squeal. Despite the wrinkle on her brow, his face unconsciously lifted into a smile when he saw Caitlin. Lord, but she was beautiful today, wearing that sunny floral dress that made her skin glow.

Distracted as he was, Tanya was able to squirm out of his grip and hurtle towards Felicity. "Mommy! Uncle Berry attacked me!"

"I _tickle-attacked_ her," he clarified.

Felicity and Caitlin exchanged amused looks, and Felicity gathered her daughter into her arms. "Protect me, Mommy," she said, burrowing her golden head of curls in her mother's neck. "Or else I gotta say that Uncle Berry is the handsomest man in the universe."

"I won't let you get away until you say it, Tanya," Barry said good-naturedly.

"But Uncle Berry isn't the handsomest, Mommy," she said. "Daddy is. Right? Daddy's the handsomest."

Felicity was trying to hide her grin. "Yeah, I think Daddy's the handsomest, too," she said. "No offense, Barry. As his wife I'm obligated to side with him."

"None taken," Barry said. "Ah, poor me," he continued loudly. "Is _no one_ going to think that I'm the handsomest man in the universe?"

He gave Caitlin a pointed look, and, instead of promptly declaring him the handsomest man in the universe, she merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Thanks for the moral support, Cait," he said dryly.

Tanya tapped Caitlin's shoulder. "Pass," she said. "Now you gotta say it, Aunty Cait."

"Me? Can you really just pass that, Tanya?"

"Yeah," she said resolutely. "You gotta say it or Uncle Berry's gonna be really sad. And if you love someone lots you don't want them to be sad, right?"

"Can't argue with that," Felicity said, grinning and pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple. "Go on, Cait."

"Yeah, go on, Cait," Barry said. "A five-year-old thinks I'm ugly. I'm dying of a broken heart here. Save me."

"Is he always this dramatic?" Felicity said.

"He is," Caitlin said.

"While you're talking about me, my self-esteem is being blown to smithereens," Barry said. "Can no one grasp the urgency of the situation?"

Tanya couldn't follow the exchange, but she must have understood the general concept, because she said, "Say it, Aunty Cait. I think Uncle Berry is sad now. I won't tell your secrets ever again if you say it."

"Ever again?" Caitlin gave her goddaughter a stern look. "Have you been spreading my secrets, young lady?"

Tanya's eyes widened and she burrowed herself further into Felicity. "Only a li'l bit." And then, when they all heard footsteps down the hall—a light, long step that could only be Oliver's—Tanya squirmed in Felicity's arms and said, "Daddy! Daddy! Help! Aunty Cait is gonna feez me!"

"Only a _li'l_ bit, darling," Caitlin drawled, towering over her goddaughter, "for the little bit of secret you told."

Once Tanya's feet were on the ground she shrieked in terror and delight and ran to Oliver.

"Tanya, no running in the—"

They heard a loud scrape of plastic on ceramic.

"Oh, bummer," Felicity mumbled. "She just scratched an antique vase with her wand. I have to check it out before Moira has my head…"

Barry and Caitlin watched the antics of the Queen family with amusement for a few more moments before they both realized that Tanya wasn't coming back, distracted as she was by an impromptu piggyback ride on Oliver's shoulders. Inwardly, Barry thought that no one truly understood the meaning of _whipped_ until they saw Oliver with his daughter.

He turned to Caitlin, who was watching them wistfully, and he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"So?" Barry said. "Do you have anything to say for yourself, Dr. Snow?"

"Do I?" she said, leaning into his touch.

"You let your boyfriend be bullied by a five-year-old," he said. "You have some explaining to do."

"Not my fault if my boyfriend lets himself get bullied," she teased. "He should be perfectly capable of taking care of himself."

"I am, but I need someone to defend my honor."

"Your honor of being the handsomest man in the universe?"

"Everyone prefers Oliver to me," he said. "Someone has to prefer me, right?"

"The Flash has an adoring fan club back in Central City," she said. "I'm sure you can find someone there."

"I don't want the vote of my adoring fans," he said, placing a kiss on her neck. "There's only one vote that matters."

She turned around to kiss him on the lips, and then pulled away, smiling. "Voting is a very serious process. I'll have to think about it first."

"Mmm," he said. "Maybe I can facilitate that process with a few bribes."

"Are you suggesting that I can be bribed?"

"Anyone can be bribed for the right price," he said languidly. "And I also happen to know what your greatest weakness is, Dr. Snow."

"Oh? Do enlighten me, Mr. Allen."

"Your greatest weakness," he said, against her lips, "is a kiss. And," he said, pulling back abruptly and looking please when she blinked at the loss of him, "not knowing something. Come on, I'm sure you're dying to know what Tanya told me."

"Oh," Caitlin said. "Not particularly."

"Not even a little bit?"

She smiled. "No."

Barry blinked. Was _she_ doing reverse psychology on _him_ now? Darn it. "It's a _very_ important secret of yours."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "You know all my secrets anyway."

"Except this one."

"Is that so?" she said, still smiling. She pulled back a little and ran her hands down his chest. "That makes us even, then."

"Even?"

"Mmm. I know that you've been keeping a secret from me, too."

"I don't have secrets," he said. "I'm the least secretive person in the world."

"Then allow me direct your attention to your secret," she said.

"Mmm," he said dully, distracted by the touch of her hands on his body. "By all means, Dr. Snow."

She gave him a sly look, her hands trailing down, down, to the waistband of his jeans, and then—

To the pocket of his pants, to the same place where he'd made sure Tanya didn't sit on earlier. Through the baggy fabric, she traced the outline of a small box, which she might have guessed—and rightly, at that—contained a wedding ring.

He stiffened, his heart caught in his throat, and then he groaned, burying his face in her neck. "It's _impossible_ to hide anything from you."

She laughed and kissed his forehead. Her eyes were bright. "You're just bad at hiding secrets."

"I was going to ask you tonight," he mumbled. "After we have dinner on Oliver's island. It'd be overlooking the beach, and there'll be lanterns in the sky, and there's supposed to be music and—"

"Like I said," she said, "you're bad at hiding secrets."

He laughed. "I ruined the surprise, didn't I? And I spent three months planning thi—wait a minute." He gave her a suspicious look. "Just how long have you known my secret?"

She gave him a gentle look. "Within the first week of your planning."

He groaned again. "Am I that bad?"

"A little, yes." And then, "Do you want to know a secret, Mr. Allen? Since I know yours, I think it's fair that you should know mine."

"I like the sound of that."

She raised herself on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his ear, her breath tickling the sensitive skin. "Ready?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and was inwardly thankful that no one was passing through the dining room just now. "Out with it, Dr. Snow. I'm not a patient man."

"My answer," she said, each movement of her lips brushing his skin, "is yes."

It took a few moments for what she said to sink in, and when it did, his face split into a grin. "Yes?"

"Yes."

He pulled her close for a long, heated kiss, his hands roaming down her curves through the flimsy fabric of her dress and her hands gripping his shoulders in response, and when she pulled away, to catch her breath, he peppered kisses on her forehead, her eyes, her nose.

"Actually, I don't think it's a fair trade," he said, even as his heart was pounding in his chest. "I already knew that since little fairy told me."

She laughed. "All right. What do you want to know, Mr. Allen?"

"How long have you known?" he said, grinning. "That you want to marry me."

"I've known for… awhile," she said.

"How long?" he pressed. "Three months ago?"

"Longer," she said.

"Six months?" he said playfully, thinking that he himself came to the conclusion that he wanted to marry her at around that time.

"Don't push your luck, Barry," she teased, but there was a look on her face that stilled him.

He cupped her face in his hands and looked her in the eye. "Cait? Was it longer than six months ago?"

She smiled, ducked from his gaze, and kissed his jaw. "It was a year and a half ago."

His breath hitched. "But that was only—"

"Two months after we started dating, I know," she said softly. "I was already sure then." And then, with a shrug that conveyed careful nonchalance, she added, "You know me. I've always been sure of what I wanted."

He crushed her into a hug. "God," he breathed. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

"Don't say that," she said gently. "I would think the handsomest man in the universe deserves only the best."

"He doesn't deserve something that's worth more than the universe," he said cheekily, kissing her again. "Nay, not only the universe, but all the universes _ever_."

"Multiverse, you mean."

"Right, that's what I was trying to say."

"One would think that you're not a time- and space-traveling speedster."

"I don't care, because haven't you heard? I'm getting married to the love of my life."

She laughed. "Sounds like old news, Barry."

He nuzzled her neck. "You'll really marry me?"

"Yes."

"If I ask you again later, will your answer be the same?"

"It's been the same for a year and a half."

"If I ask you tomorrow, will your answer be the same?"

Her smile softened. "Barry, my answer will be the same every day for the rest of our lives. I'll always say yes to you."

He sighed in contentment, so happy that he could dissolve into a puddle right then and there. "I'd marry you right now if I could. I don't know why I waited three months to ask."

"You were under the delusion that you could keep a secret," she said, patting his cheek. "You've only just recovered, so cut yourself some slack."

He laughed. "Fine, no more secrets from now on." He held her close. "I love you, Cait. Across the multiverse and back. In all timelines and in all my lifetimes."

"You are such a sap," she teased.

"And you'll have to get used to it," he said. "You're stuck with me forever. Imagine the torture, waking up to this gorgeous face every day and being skewered with 'I love yous' every ten minutes."

"Mmm. Guess I'll have to make do."

"We're going to have an absolutely boring existence," he continued. "You'll get sick of me one day."

"I don't think you can be boring if you tried," she said dryly. And, with a warm twinkle in her eyes, she whispered, "Besides, I'd be okay with any sort of existence, as long as it's with you."

He grinned. "Now who's the sap?"

"Still you. You're a bad influence on me."

"You're right, I am. In that case, I look forward to thoroughly debauching you." He left a wet kiss on her throat before blowing on the sensitive skin with his hot breath, and Caitlin let out a small gasp.

"Barry…" she said in warning, "this isn't our house, and we can't…"

"Babe, you're forgetting that I'm a time- and space-traveling speedster," he purred in her ear before sweeping her into his arms. "I'll take you back home to debauch you, and we'll be back before anyone can miss us."

At the sound of Caitlin's pleased laughter, Barry thought that despite what Tanya Queen said, speed was definitely the best superpower.

 **. . .**

Felicity and Tanya were making their way back to the dining room when Felicity overheard snatches of her friends' conversation. All she had to hear was "marry" and "yes" and she knew that it was best to give them some privacy.

Smiling to herself and thinking that it was about time, she took her daughter's hand and led her to her playroom instead.

"Uncle Berry is gonna marry Aunty Cait, right?" Tanya said conversationally.

Felicity blinked. She didn't think that Tanya was listening. "Yes, sweetie," she said. "They love each other very much, so they're getting married."

"No, they're gonna marry 'cause of me," she said smugly. "I told Uncle Berry that Aunty Cait wanted to marry him."

Felicity smiled and crouched to her daughter's level. "That's nice, sweetie, but you shouldn't go around spilling other people's secrets. Sometimes you have to wait until people are ready to tell them. How would you feel if you told me a secret and I told everyone else?"

"But I don't have secrets, Mommy. I just have other people's."

"Still. Be more careful with other people's secrets, okay, sweetie?"

Tanya managed to look properly chastised. "Okay."

"Tell you what," Felicity said. "If you can be the very best secret keeper in the world, I'm going to ask Uncle Barry and Aunty Cait if you can be the flower girl at their wedding."

"Flower girl?"

"Yes, sweetie. It's an honor to be a flower girl. You have to protect Uncle Barry and Aunty Cait from the Trojans, and since you're the only one who can be invisible, you're the only one who can do it."

In Tanya's mind, Trojans weren't the malwares from Felicity's programming language, but rather invisible black entities that sucked all happiness away. Whenever Tanya was feeling down, she blamed it on a Trojan. In a way, that was how her invisibility had started—she'd wanted to battle the invisible enemies that were making her sad or upsetting her. And with her child's logic, she deduced that if she was invisible she could see the invisible, too, and if she could see them she could defeat them.

She straightened her back and gave a solemn nod. "Okay, Mommy. I'll be their flower girl."

"So you'll keep secrets from now on?"

"Yeah. Or else no one's gonna protect Uncle Berry and Aunty Cait from the Trojans."

Felicity smiled and hugged her daughter tight. "That's my brave girl."

Tanya was true to her word. From then on, she became a rather accomplished secret-keeper, and at Barry and Caitlin's wedding day eight months later, she arrived armed with her battered tiara and plastic wand to hold the Trojans at bay. At the end of it she was pleased to announce that she'd defeated them all, and that Barry and Caitlin were free to live their happily-ever-after.

And sure enough, they did.

* * *

 _ **Notes:**_ _By the way, if you're still looking for a Snowbarry fix, check out my friend Of Pencils and Penguin's fic "A Light in Spring"! It's a light-hearted high school spring break AU with funny friendship moments and downright precious Snowbarry interactions. Give it a chance, you won't regret it. :) See you all again in two weeks' time!_


	4. You Really Got a Hold on Me

**Summary:** One hot summer day, Barry manages to convince Caitlin to be his personal air-conditioner. Ah, the things she did for love…

 **Rating:** T

 **Words:** ~2,700

 **Notes (6 June 2018):** The song for this is "You Really Got a Hold on Me". A caveat: I'm assuming Caitlin and KF are the same person. Sorry, I just can't seem to buy the whole split personality thing. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I hope you'll like it anyway. :)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own The Flash or any of The Beatles songs.

* * *

 **You Really Got a Hold on Me**

* * *

"It's so hot. It's so hot I'm dying," Barry said. "I'm dying, Cait. I can't move. I think I'm slowly losing consciousness. Those are signs of dying, right?"

Caitlin rolled her eyes. Normally she didn't like him making jokes like that—they'd been proven real way too many times—but right now, it was hard to take him seriously. After all, Barry was currently sprawled on the floor of the Cortex, pressing his cheek to the cool marble tile like it would save his life.

She couldn't fault him for feeling that way, though. Not only did his body temperature run higher than normal, but he also ate and burned more calories than the average human being did, so hot summer days like this were difficult for him. Add that to the fact that there was currently no air-conditioning (it broke down that morning) and he was practically incapacitated. Although not to the point of death, as he'd just claimed. That wasn't his physiology—that was just him being dramatic.

"Since you're still whining loudly," she said dryly, "I doubt you're losing consciousness."

He pouted. "I'll whine more softly, then." And then, in a strangled whisper, "It's so hot I'm dying… Save me, Dr. Snow…"

"Since you can still modulate the pitch of your voice," she said with a hint of amusement, "I'd say you're very much alive."

"I'm wounded." His voice returned to its normal pitch. "You're not taking me seriously at all, Dr. Snow. Has anyone ever told you that your bedside manner needs work?"

" _Someone_ has, but he whines about everything, so I don't take it personally."

"Okay, wait, just to be clear—I'm not really _whining_ , per se. I'm just stating my opinion on the weather."

"You have too many opinions on the weather."

"Just one, in fact, but I do have another opinion on how you can change that one opinion on it."

She raised a brow. "Let me get this straight: You have opinion on your opinion."

"Why, yes I do." He lifted his head to face her, flashing her a devious grin. "Very _meta_ of me, huh?"

Caitlin groaned.

"Admit it. You walked right into that one."

"I'm busy, Barry."

"No, you're not. You stopped typing for the past ten minutes."

She gave him a look and pointedly resumed typing.

"No, wait, hear me out first," he pleaded, raising himself to his forearms. "This is an emergency, Cait. You need to help me."

She sighed. "In _my_ opinion, Mr. Allen, you're perfectly capable of helping yourself," she said. "With your speed, it'll only take you thirty minutes to learn everything about air-cons, and probably ten to fix ours."

"I'm flattered you think so highly of my abilities," he said, "but that means I have to get up, which means I have to expend energy, which produces more heat. And we've already established that this heat could be a possible cause of my death." He gave another dramatic sigh. "Please, Cait. If you hear me out, I'll never make puns ever again."

" _Ever_ again? Really."

He paused. "Fine. That was a bit of an exaggeration. I won't make puns for a day."

"No."

"Okay, maybe just for the next hour—"

"I mean, no, I won't do what you're thinking."

"How do you know what I'm thinking? Last I checked, you don't have mind-reading abilities."

"I have Barry-reading abilities. I know what you're going to say, and my answer is no." She gave him a look. "Why don't you go to Jitters instead? Cisco's already there."

"I can't," he said. "I'm bound here by my love for you. Ah, woe is me."

"Did you know that the heat makes you dramatic?"

"Did you know that my being dramatic always makes you smile?" he countered.

"I'm not smiling."

Barry grinned at her. "Sure, Cait. Sure."

"Just go to Jitters already," she said, with a small not-smile on her face.

"I'm not leaving if you aren't."

"I can't work from Jitters. All my files are on this computer."

"Well, if I'm dying before your eyes, you won't be able to work here either."

"Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"Merely stating an opinion, Dr. Snow."

"I'm starting to dislike your opinions."

"You still like me, though."

"Right now, just barely."

"Fine, but you still love me. I can see it in your eyes."

"This is a glare, if you haven't noticed."

"From this angle," he said, making a vague gesture at his prone form, "I think it's a look of love."

"I really should've just hired someone to fix it," she muttered.

"You did say we don't have the budget for it yet," Barry said. "Not until that grant you applied for pushes through next month."

It was true. Ever since S.T.A.R. Labs fell into disrepute, it was almost impossible to obtain funds, and even if the museum was bringing in money, it was barely enough to cover the utility bills, let alone the repairs. Caitlin didn't know what exactly happened to the air-con, but according to their janitor, it would take a whopping five hundred dollars to have it fixed.

She sighed and absently wiped the sweat from her forehead and her neck with a handkerchief.

Barry propped himself up on his elbow and grinned. "You're considering it, aren't you?"

"No."

"You must be feeling hot and bothered, too," he said. "And for once, it's not because of me."

She looked skyward. "Barry," she said, "I won't do it."

"Why not?" he said. For the first time since the start of their conversation, he got to his feet and flashed beside her. "Think about it. It's good practice for your powers, since you have to slowly lower the temperature degree by degree. It's also cost-effective—we probably won't have to pay for air-con ever again. That's one less expense for us to worry about."

"That's precisely what I'm worried about. If I do this, you and Cisco'll get me to keep doing it, and I refuse to be your personal air-conditioner."

"Hey, _you_ get me to do all the spring cleaning because of my speed," he pointed out, "and we get Cisco to vibe the release dates of movies and series all the time."

"That's… different."

"Come on, Cait," he wheedled, "you're not a real superhero until you use your powers to do the boring ordinary stuff."

"Says who?"

"Says the man who happens to be one of Central City's seasoned superheroes."

"Given that I'm also one of the city's seasoned superheroes, I don't think I have to listen to this man."

He sighed. "Fine. You leave me no choice, Dr. Snow. If you don't do it, I'll"—he towered over her—" _hug_ you until you do."

Despite herself, her lips curled into a smile. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

He grinned, pulled her to her feet, and quickly engulfed her in a bear-hug. She let out a _whoosh_ of air. "Yes. I'm sweaty and smelly and my body temperature's a few degrees higher than yours. I'll wear you down by smelliness and body heat."

She wrinkled her nose. He did smell like sweat, and he was burning like he had a fever. "Ugh. You need a shower."

"No, I just need to stop sweating, which'll likely happen if you suck the heat from the room."

She sighed. "Sometimes, I don't know what to do with you."

"That's fine. I, for one, have a lot of ideas on what you can do with me."

She bit back a smile. "I see what you're doing here, Mr. Allen. You're trying to wear me down with hugs and jokes. It won't work."

"Darn it. There goes my nefarious plan," he said. "Maybe I should add kisses, too, for good measure." To accentuate his point, he pressed a kiss to a sensitive spot on her neck that had her arching into him.

"Alright, alright," she finally said, pulling away. "But first, swear to me you won't tell anyone about this."

He gave her an innocent look. "Okay."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Swear it, Barry."

"Why?" he teased. "Worried you'd ruin your fearsome reputation as Frost if this comes out?"

She sniffed. "Most villains are more afraid of me than the Flash and Vibe combined, you know."

"Ah, so that's it," Barry said, grinning. "You're afraid you'll be exposed as nothing more than a glorified air-conditioner."

She swatted him on the arm. "Swear it, Barry," she said with mock-sternness. "I need to preserve my reputation as a menacing ice queen for the sake of the city."

"Fine, fine," he laughed. "I swear it."

She gave him an assessing look.

He returned it with a boyish smile.

She rolled her eyes affectionately and finally gave in. Even if she pretended that she could, they both knew that it was impossible for her to resist him.

Caitlin took a step back and closed her eyes. It sounded mundane, lowering the temperature of the room, but in truth it was more challenging than conjuring an icicle. With conjuring weapons, she didn't need to hold herself back—all she had to do was concentrate on a specific area and abruptly draw all the heat out of that area. In this case, though, the surface area was larger, and she had to rein her power in and lower the temperature gradually, or she'd turn the entire room into ice.

It took her a few minutes to accomplish a room temperature of around seventy degrees. When she opened her eyes again, Barry was beaming at her.

"Satisfied, Mr. Allen?" she said. Her body practically hummed in relief at having the cool air swirl around her, but she'd never admit it to him.

"It's still not cold enough for me," he said casually, taking a lock of her white hair in his fingers.

"No?" she said. "I've saved you from certain death, and you're still not satisfied?"

"The cold won't save me, after all," he said, smiling. "You know what will?"

Caitlin hid her smile and lightly placed a hand on his chest. "Well, spit it out, Mr. Allen. Playing coy doesn't suit you."

"There's nothing coy about this," he murmured, before leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss.

He was right—there was nothing coy about it, and in a few moments Caitlin found herself perched on the far end of the table, her legs around his waist, while Barry's hands were snaking up her thigh and pulling lightly on her hair until she tilted her head back to let him leave kisses on her neck.

"Barry, we shouldn't— _ah_ —not here—"

"Yes here," he said, smiling into her skin. "Don't worry, we'll make it quick."

"Are you… Mmm…" The heat coming off him was heady and intoxicating, but she'd since learned when to put a cap on her powers whenever she was with him. She did take a little of his heat, though, just enough to take away his discomfort. "Are you _rushing_ me?"

"What, would you rather I tease you?" he said, his voice a low rumble. She gripped his shoulders when his hand found the edge of her underwear, but, instead of slipping a finger inside, he traced the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "I can do that, too. I can do that all day."

"Barry…"

She tried to pull him closer by digging her heels into his lower back, but he refused to budge. He gave her an infuriating smirk. "Well, Cait? What'll it be?"

"Dammit, Barry, just—"

But before Caitlin could finish her sentence, a voice sliced through the atmosphere of the Cortex.

"H—aw, _geez,_ guys!"

They both quickly jumped apart from each other, and in turn Cisco quickly whirled around when he saw them. "Really, guys? _Really?_ "

"Cisco!" Caitlin breathed. She struggled to fix her dress, while Barry faced the wall to hide the tented front of his pants from view. "We thought you'd—uh, be in Jitters?"

"Oh my god," he said, horrified. He faced them now. "Is 'Hey Cisco, you should go to Jitters' actually code for 'Let's have sex in the Cortex'?"

"No!" they said quickly.

"It is," Cisco said faintly. "Excuse me while I bleach my eyes…"

"Oh, come on," Caitlin said. Her heart rate had finally returned to normal, and a semblance of rational thinking returned. "We've never had sex here."

"Yeah, Caitlin's too professional for that," Barry added. "Everything leading up to it, though…"

Caitlin swatted him on the arm, and Cisco groaned again. "Guys, seriously, I love you, but you make me want to barf sometimes."

"As if you and Cynthia haven't already done it here," Caitlin countered.

"No! Of course not!" Cisco huffed, before amending it cheekily with, "Everything leading up to it, though…"

"Okay, this conversation's going to make _me_ barf," Barry said, finally turning to face him. "Can we just agree to never talk about it again?"

"We need to make an official rule," Caitlin said. "No sex in the Cortex or something."

"But Cynthia likes it here," Cisco said. "She gets unbelievably turned on when—"

"Okay, _stop,_ " Caitlin said hastily. "Let's just pretend this conversation never happened."

"Right, and keep having not-sex in the Cortex with our significant others," Cisco said.

"Sounds about right," Barry said.

"Okay." Cisco put his backpack down on a chair. "So… Um. Er."

A pause.

"I got nothing, guys. Help me un-awkward this conversation."

Barry and Caitlin exchanged looks, and Caitlin sighed. "How was Jitters?" she offered lamely.

"Oh, yeah," Cisco said, snapping his fingers. "I came back 'cause I needed a file…" He blinked. "Wait, is it just me, or did it get colder here? Did someone fix the air-con?"

Barry grinned. "No, we got a new one."

"We got a new…" His gaze immediately landed on Caitlin. He took in her changed appearance and grinned. "Ohoho—"

"You _swore_ not to tell anyone," Caitlin said, shooting her boyfriend a murderous look.

"Technically, I didn't," Barry said innocently. "I just mentioned that we got a new air-con."

"Wait, guys, wait—I think I'm getting a vibe," Cisco said. "I'm getting a vibe where… Caitlin goes to my apartment every day for the rest of the summer… to save me from my electricity bill."

"And you _just so happened_ to vibe that now."

"What can I say? I can't control what vibes come to me."

Caitlin let out a long-suffering sigh. "I don't even know why I'm still a part of this team."

"That's a yes," Cisco stage-whispered to Barry. "That's totally a yes."

"Naw, Cait won't give in so easily."

She gave him a level look, and then she said to Cisco, "Fine."

"Fine?!" Barry squawked, while Cisco whooped, "Yeah! Free air-con!"

"Hey, that's unfair. It took me _weeks_ to convince you, and you say yes to him just like that?"

"Consider it punishment for telling on me," Caitlin sniffed.

"Also, bros before hoes," Cisco said piously. "Right, Cait?"

" _I'm_ your bro, too," Barry said.

"Well, Cait was my bro first," Cisco said, "so you're the hoe in this equation. Also, we both know we're more hoe than Cait will ever be."

"Should I be flattered by that?" Caitlin said blandly.

"Dude," Barry said to Cisco, "if anyone's a hoe here, it's _you_. I'm practically chaste next to you." And then, to her, he said, "Right, Cait? I've never displayed any hoe-ish tendencies, have I?"

" _Whipped_ ," Cisco coughed.

"Oh, don't even get me started on you and Cynthia."

"Ah, ah. Unlike you, my dear friend, I embrace my whippedness," he said. "In fact, I _make love_ to my whippedness. There's just something about a girl in leathers that—"

"You know, this is another one of those conversations that should _never_ see the light of day—"

Caitlin smiled as she watched their antics. She could play stern all she wanted, but the truth was that there was no other team she'd rather be a part of, and she could never refuse these two boys anything.

That didn't mean she couldn't withhold information from them, though. In reality, without her presence in the room, the cold won't last for more than twenty minutes. She _was_ about to hint at it, but it was really much more fun to watch them bicker…

Oh well. They'll find out sooner or later, anyway.

* * *

 _ **Notes:** I have a couple of one-shot ideas lined up after this, but just to give you guys a heads-up—one of the partly-written ones I have is turning out angsty, and the other's turning out smutty. I hope it's okay if there's a bit of angst between the fluff and if I up the rating of this collection to M in the future. :P_


End file.
